The Model, the Photographer, and
by TheNekoTsundere
Summary: Dave sat alone in his studio, toying with his camera. Normally he didn't photograph people, much less people in swim suits. But hey, the pay was too much to say no to. He'd been dealing with grouchy, half-naked women all day. Everyone else had left, leaving only one model left... (Sad/Smutstuck AU WARNING: Violence, suicidal thoughts/actions, yaoi)
1. A First Meeting

**Hey guys! This story is a roleplay I did, and I really liked the way the plot turned out. Funny thing is, it originally was just supposed to be like a JohnDave NSFW thing. But it... Well, you'll see what happens. This is going to be roughly 8-10 chapters long (I still haven't decided if I'm combining or splitting up certain chapters) and ahead of time, I'm really sorry about any super short chapters. I'm basically separating them based on major time skips, with a few exceptions. While I'm still apologizing, I'm sorry that the first two and a half paragraphs or so suck ass, I lost the messages for those and had to recreate it by memory. But, I promise it gets way better, so please give it chance. Anyways, I'll update as I edit the chapters, so maybe once a week or so. Enjoy!**

Chapter one: ...And a First Meeting

Dave sat alone in his studio, toying with his camera. Normally he didn't photograph people, much less people in swim suits. But hey, the pay was too much to say no to. He'd been dealing with grouchy, half-naked women all day. Everyone else had left, leaving only one model left. Dave was extremely surprised when in walked the last model, and it was a shortish, dark haired guy with glasses.

John had been sitting in the same chair all day, watching the models around him come in and out of the adjoining room. Slowly, the room emptied until he was the only one left. His agency had wanted mostly female models along with one male. Since all the other guys had gotten sick from each other, John was the only one who could fill the part. When it was his turn, John stood up and adjusted his swim trunks. "Hey." he said as he slipped into the room. Dave turned at the sound of a voice, shocked at its owner. "Oh, uh, hi." he said. He stood up and walked over to the stranger. "John Egbert, at your service. Or are you at mine?" he giggled, sticking his hand out. "You're Mr. Strider right?" "Yeah," Dave said with a slight smile "and, please, it's Dave." "Alright _Dave,_" John's eyes wandered until they found the backdrop. He walked over and stood in front of it.

Dave walked over to his station and examined John, his lips pursed. He noticed John was actually pretty good looking, and his trunks- Dave shook his head. What are you thinking? No. Stop. He messed with the settings on his computer so that the background colors contrasted and blended with John's piece correctly. "So, is there any particular pose you want me to start off in?" John asked. Dave grabbed a prop surf board and handed it to John. "Here, take this and act like you see someone you know off camera." he instructed. John took the surf board and turned it in his hands before furrowing his brows. He opened his mouth to say something about how the structure of the prop was so unrealistic, but closed it and nodded, clearing his throat and executing the pose for Dave. Dave smiled slightly.

"Great." He kneeled down slightly for an upward angle and snapped photos in rapid succession. Usually, the board looked a bit unnatural, but John had a way of working with it. John bit his lip while Dave was snapping and almost immediately realized his mistake, widening his eyes momentarily before going back to his original face, hoping he didn't mess up the shoot. He wasn't that photogenic, and that's why he was barely even accepted into the agency, much less nearly replaced by a sick dude for this photoshoot. When John bit his lip, Dave unconsciously gripped the camera a bit tighter. He even got a few adorable shots of him looking shocked. No, stop. Dave shut his eyes for a moment and stood up straight. He grabbed his notepad and read his notes. The brunette blinked and bit his fingernail, shuffling in place before stuttering out "D-Did I ruin the shots? I'm sorry I just-" He fell silent, kicking his foot on the ground in an attempt to distract himself from Dave. Why was he so stuttery around him? He was never stuttery. He looked up from his notes, confused. "Ruin? What, no. No, of course not!" he blabbered. He shut his mouth quickly, to avoid saying anything else, and swallowed dryly. What the hell, Dave? he thought to himself. He walked away quickly to grab a beach chair.

John blinked and suddenly smiled once Dave's back was turned. Gosh that was cute. Wait. What. No no no no no you are _not_ a homosexual John. He thought, shaking his head and twirling the surfboard in his fingers before starting to hum a quiet tune, lost in thought. Dave walked back in with the chair and heard John's soft voice. "Whatcha humming?" he asked casually before opening up the beach chair. He set it down carefully.

Dave's voice startled John at first, nearly making him drop the first prop and choke on his own spit, causing him to keel over and have a good coughing fit before coming back up, eyes wide, glasses crooked, and face bright red. "I- I um..it was..a melody for the um..piano I had made up..um.." "Really?" Dave asked, a concerned look on his face from John's cough attack."Well, I think it's nice." he said. He reached over and fixed John's glasses for him, his hand lingering a millisecond longer than it should have. Dave mentally slapped himself. He pulled his hand back and cracked his knuckles nervously. Honestly, John wouldn't mind if his hands had stayed just a few milliseconds longer, and he caught his breath before he almost let out a small whimper, clearing his throat instead. "O-oh um..thanks. I could play it for you some time, if you'd like?" Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck John you stupid idiot he's just a one time photographer calm the fuck down you dildo. "I'd like that." Dave said before he could stop himself. He turned around to grab his camera.

What in the hell? Stop, what are you thinking!? He turned back around and faced John again. "So," he said, his voice cracked a bit. Shit. He cleared his throat and tried again. "So, if you could just lay back in that chair like you're tanning?" It came out cooler and calmer the second time. John blinked again and waited a moment before finally processing what he said and setting down the prop in his hand before letting out a noise and picking it back up only to wait and set it down again, only to drag it to the chair and set it next to it, groaning at himself. Dave hadn't specified if he wanted it or not. Just...GET IN THE CHAIR YOU IDIOT. John plopped down into the chair and held his face in his hands for a moment before leaning back and trying to relax.

Dave watched his confusion with the board and felt like a dumbass. He should've taken the damn thing first. He grabbed it quickly and flung it aside, not caring if it broke. John saw and flinched at the splintering sound it made, biting his lip and squeaking. "Sorry I didn't know if you- Augh I'm probably the worst model you've ever worked with I'm sorry." He burst out, shaking his head and blushing again. Great. Now Dave looked like a dumbass _with a temper._ He tried to fix his mistake before he messed up anymore. "No, no you're not! You're great, really! Most of the models from earlier today were way worse." He bit his tongue. Way to go Dave, insult his co-workers. What's next, call his mom fat? Dave wanted to die.

John went from a nervous mess to a giggle fit in 5 seconds. "Yeah most of the girls are really mean and shitty in general." He shrugged, feeling his face heat up even more. He tried to hide his blush but he knew it would be no use. Hopefully he could use the heat as an excuse, so he fake fanned himself to take the attention off of why he was blushing. Dave breathed a small sigh of relief and smiled slightly. "Are you warm? I could turn the heat down, if you want." Of course he's hot , fuckass, look at him. STOP. HE'S JUST HERE TO MODEL, he argued in his head. "No no no I'm fine don't worry just...I'll pose now.." He stammered out, blinking and recomposing himself before letting out a sigh and sitting back, trying and failing not to smile. "I'm supposed to be tanning anyways." Dave laughed. "That's right," he said. He circled around the chair slowly, trying to find the best angle. He snapped a few as he did, comparing them on the screen.

John finally calmed down and went straight faced again, adjusting in the seat before crossing a leg over the other, sighing in content when he found this more comfortable, eyes closed as he heard Dave move around him. When John's eyes closed, Dave allowed himself to look at him closer, studying the gentle curves of his toned body. Dave shook his head, knowing he shouldn't be thinking like that about one of the models. He found a nice angle slightly above him and took more photos. John heard the shudder of the camera and almost opened his eyes, but stayed still nontheless. "Is that the Canon X-130?" He asked when the shutters stopped, eyes still closed as he bit his lip again.

"Yeah," Dave replied "I got it- wait," he paused as he noticed John's eyes hadn't opened yet, "you can tell that just from the shudder?" he asked in awe. Wow, he was cute, hot, and into cameras? Of course he is, he's a male model. Get a grip and do. Your. Job. John peeked an eye open and grinned, nodding. "They all have really distinct and different noises for each shudder. You've never noticed?" He asked, sitting up a bit and running his fingers through his hair. "I have many Canon cameras and a few Nikon. I dabble in photography myself, just as a hobby though." He explained, looking down into his lap as he spoke. Dave crouched next to him. He nodded, listening intently. "That's so cool, I never really considered it. I was always more into older cameras, where you develop the photos yourself. I built my first red room when I was ten." he spouted. Damn it, Dave.

"Sorry," he mumbled, standing up again. John grinned and listened, only to blink when Dave suddenly got up, unconsciously grabbing out for his sleeve. Fuck. He stared at his hand for a second before gasping and retracting his hand. "Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't mean to grab your sleeve I just didn't want you to stop talking because I like your voice and-" He stopped, widening his eyes as his blush swarmed back to his face. "N-no it's okay. R-really." Dave stuttered nervously. God, he was adorable when he blushed. He bit his lip, finally past denying himself. He'd fallen for a model he'd never met before, and dear God did he want him. Despite this, he had to be professional. He straightened his back and looked down at John.

John stared at his lap for a solid minute before tightening his grip on the edge of the seat. "A-anyways...um...any more poses you'd like me to do or are we all done here?" He somehow choked out, unable to look at the photographer straight in the eye. Fuuuuccckkkkkkkk. Dave knew the right thing to say was "Yes, we're done here. You may go." but he just couldn't bring himself to do that. He felt his resolve melt. He only had this one chance, and he'd be a coward to not at least try. Dave tilted John's head back up to look at him by his chin. He leaned down and kissed John.

He pulled away after a second and turned his back to him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just, you can go, I'm sorry." He said quickly hiding his head in his hands. John sat there, baffled for a few seconds with his eyes wide and mouth slightly open before moving slowly and standing up, walking over to Dave, and tapping on his shoulder wordlessly. Oh God, what was he going to do to him? Would he hit him? Hoping he wasn't right, Dave turned to John. John bit his lip before leaning up on his toes and kissing him back on the lips gently, before standing back flat on his feet and blushing, offering a small smile and a half laugh. Dave smiled and took John's face lightly in his hands, leaning in once again. He paused right outside his lips, silently asking permission. John smiled a bit and pressed their lips together once more, bringing up a small hand to touch the other's jaw as he did so, his eyes fluttering shut. Dave was beyond relieved when John didn't pull away. He turned his head slightly and deepened the kiss.

John continued to kiss back until suddenly stopping, realizing what he had just done. He backed away a bit before hitching his breath, hand balled up into fists. "I'm..I'm sorry I- I have to go now-" He squeaked, turning and running out of the room before giving Dave a chance to reply. "John, no, wait!" Dave called after him. He ran after him as fast as he could, catching up to him quickly. "Where are you going?" he asked desperately. John stopped in his tracks and tensed, not turning around to face him. "I'm sorry I- I can't we just met and...I need to know more about you before we do anything and I didn't think you would come after me I..I-" He let out a hic, then shuddered slightly, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing he didn't exist at this moment. Dave nodded in understanding, karma's biggest "I told you so" slapping him in the face. "Then, let me get to know you." he said. "Wait what?" He whispered, turning around and blinking at Dave, face full of confusion and disbelief and embarassment all at once. "If you have to get to know more about me, then okay. You can know whatever you want about me, and I'll get to know you, too." Dave said earnestly. "And if that's not what you want, then I'm okay with that too." he added sadly, his eyes burning behind his shades. John thought for a moment before setting his jaw and giving him a nod, a small smile forming on his features. "I guess it's a deal then." He said almost too confidently for his own worth. He stepped forward and held out his hand, waiting for a response. Dave looked from John's hand to his face, both of which had been so close to him mere minutes ago. He gave a slight nod before shaking his outstretched hand. "It's a deal." he said.

**Just so you know, that whole John running away thing was her idea and I was just as shocked as you. I hope you enjoyed. Please follow/favorite/review and all that for more, because things get interesting next time. Dun dun dun!**


	2. A Date

**So, based on my speed of my ****procrastination**** editing, you can officially hope to see these every Wednesday. And as soon as I say that, I'll fuck up somehow. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2 ... A Date

~Days in the future, but not many~

John scrambled around his apartment, trying to tidy things as quickly as possible, and nearly tripping over his own shoes. He had invited Dave over today, and was a nervous wreck. Would he come? Or...or would he bail? Dave stood in the lobby, shifting on his feet nervously. He rubbed his face gruffly and ran his fingers through his tossled blonde hair. He tried to psych himself up to get into elevator, but was having trouble with his anxiety. He came all this way, he couldn't just bail now. With his last ounce of bravery he strode over to the elevator, pressing the up button with his thumb.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck was his hair okay? Did his outfit wrinkle? Did his acne show? Wait. What acne? John shook his head and groaned loudly, bending his knees and tossing his head back before regaining his posture and straightening his bowtie. How tacky. His outfit consisted of a long sleeved dress shirt underneath a scratchy vest, with a red bowtie and tan pants and dress shoes. He even used hair gel. Why was he even trying to impress the guy? He didn't even know.

Dave punched the button for John's floor and looked down at himself. He wore a gray v-necked long sleeve shirt over a white button up. He wore them tucked into his black dress pants, which were held up by a black belt. He'd even worn his nicest sunglasses. He made sure his collars and cuffs were folded over the top shirt properly. Wait, shit, was he overdressed? He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows in a vain attempt to look more casual, revealing his silver watch on his right wrist. What if he was underdressed by mistake? Fucking hell.

DING!

John nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the elevator outside in the hallway and gulped, placing a sweat- AUGH WHAT THE HELL. He wiped his hand on his vest and tried again, making a face and exhaling when it opened. He kind of slid over to the doors and waited, hands behind his back as he heard the doors unlocking and start to slide open. Dave stepped out into the hall, taking a deep, shaky breath or two. Or twelve. His stomach twisted. I should've tried harder with my hair, he thought, I probably look homeless. He took the few agonizing steps toward John's door. He was about to knock, but hesitated, what if this was the wrong door. No, stop. He rapped on the door sharply a few times, and put on a calm face.

John bit his lip as he heard the raps, looking through the peephole to make sure it was Dave. Dave watched the small circle on the door turned black for a second as John checked the door. His breath caught slightly as he listened to the metal lock slide out of place. John quickly unlocked the deadbolt and the door itself, opening it up and giving Dave a sheepish smile. "Hello Dave.." he said meekly, blinking his blue eyes at the other. When John opened the door, he smiled back and replied with a simple "Hi John." John looked over Dave for a moment before actually snapping out of his funk and blinking, stepping back and allowing the door to be opened wider. "W-would you like to come in?" He asked, motioning inside with a shaky hand. Dave gave him a slight nod and a "Thank you". He stepped inside, his hands sliding naturally into his pockets.

He looked around. "It's a wonderful place you've got here." he said. He wondered how he was able to exude any kind of confidence while his insides twisted into knots. He dug his nails into the palm of his hand. John locked the door behind him and turned, catching the last part. He let out a laugh and walked over to Dave, shaking his head. "I went on a vigorous cleaning spree at midnight and I haven't stopped until now." he said, checking his watch. What the fuck it was already 6:30 pm. Shit. Why did he even tell Dave. Oops. He cringed silently and stifled a yawn by pushing it down his throat. Dave chuckled a bit. "Sounds like something I would do," he admitted, "though I probably wouldn't have finished as quickly." Wait. Did that make him sound irresponsible? Good God, this was a hell of a lot harder than he thought it would be.

"I had to power through with absolutely no breaks. I'm exhausted." He chuckled, putting a hand on his forehead for a moment before moving to the living room a few steps away. His apartment was fairly large, but humble in what was in it. Just some furniture, nothing 'too expensive'. John was very humble, and wouldn't let money get in the way of that. "Uh..shall we take a seat?" He asked, nodding towards the soft blue couches. "Hm? Yes, thank you." Dave said. What was up? He almost never talked like this and he didn't understand why he started to now. Worrying about this made it harder to keep certain tendencies under control, or at least _a_ tendency. The one where his voice would slip and his accent came out, making him sound like some Texas snake wrestler on his first city trip.

Dave cleared his throat. "This is quite a respectable home," he said, walking over to the living room. "Thanks.."John smiled, pulling out some...wait..what did he like? Tea or soda or...? "Uh uh..what would you like to drink?" he asked, clapping his hands together and rocking back on his heels, biting his lip. There ya go John. You indecisive fuck. "Do you have any apple juice?" Dave asked. He internally face palmed as soon as he said it. He didn't want John to know he had a borderline obsession with the sugary fruit juice. No, Dave, regular guys don't have apple juice, he thought to himself.

"Hm? Oh! Yeah, I think so." John scrambled off to the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning it's contents before lighting up and pulling out a jug of apple juice. He closed the fridge and grabbed a few glasses before walking back to the couch, setting the drink on the coffee table and pouring Dave some, handing the glass to him a moment later with a smile. Dave accepted the glass politely and took a drink. His throat was dry, making it difficult to swallow. As he did, he nearly started to choke to death. He swallowed back coughs and tried not to look like he was secretly dying. John blinked at Dave before pouring himself a glass, taking a sip and setting it back down. He shuffled back until he sat down in one of the rocking chairs that were matching colors with the couch, and looked into his lap for a moment. SAY SOMETHING YOU FUCK. START A CONVERSATION. "So uh...you're a photographer.."

Fuck you John, and fuck your awkwardness, God damn it.

Dave nodded and twisted the cup around in his hands. "Yeah, but I usually don't do models." he explained. Wait. "Uh, take um, take pictures of them, I mean." he added quickly, not wanting John to get the wrong idea. He sighed and looked down, trying to gain a semi-coherent train of thought. Hehhehehehehehehhe. No. Wait. John. Stop. "I usually photograph scenic views and things of the like." Dave rephrased. John smiled and nodded, holding back a blush as he cleared his throat and scratched his head. "Yeah I usually do that too, but sometimes people ask for me to take their photos for a bit of money. Nothing professionally." He shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek. "Do...do you like it? Photography, I mean." Dave nodded. "Yeah, a lot actually. I wasn't exactly the smartest kid in school, and I never really saw myself stuck in some cubicle five days a week. The jobs may be random and I may not know when the next one is, but it's a way I get to do what I love and still be a functional human being." he gushed. He didn't know why, but he felt comfortable talking about this with John. Probably because almost no one else ever really cared.

John nodded in agreement, taking another sip of his drink. "And modeling for me is...ehhh...kinda worth it. I can feed and clothe and shelter myself and that's all that matters really. Ridiculous what they put us in, though. One time they painted me pink and glued feathers on a headband and stuck it on me and called me a flamingo. I was so embarrassed." he snickered, the blush now winning the battle and becoming eminent on his features. Dave laughed lightly and noticed light pink color that now dusted John's face. Keep it cool, Dave. He started to twist the cup in the opposite direction. "And that's partly the reason I tend to stay away from the fashion industry." he said. "Yeah.." John nodded and placed a hand on his face to hide his blush, grinning.

Ding! His head swiveled to the side and he got up, bounding to the kitchen before grabbing some oven mitts and pulling out a small chicken from the oven, smiling. "It's ready!" he breathed, setting it down on the dining room table and clapping his hands together. "Something smells delicious!" Dave called from the living room. He sat for a moment and wondered if he should follow him. He got up from the couch, drink still in his hand. "You need any help?" he asked, walking toward the dining room. "Nope! Everything's already set out and ready. Come sit down?" he offered, adjusting the silverware at one of the plates. The chicken was roasted well, with herbs and a pineapple slide on top, the heat rolling off of it and filling the room with its scent.

"Wow," Dave mused, looking at the perfectly dressed bird on the table. "That looks amazing." He sat down at the table and looked over at John with a smile. "Thanks uh...this is my first time making it." He smiled meekishly before grabbing a knife and cutting the chicken open, setting a few pieces on each plate before turning to grab a pot off the stove and opening it to reveal peas. He poured some on the plates and finally sat down in his chair awkwardly. "Dinner is..uh..served."

Dave chuckled a bit and placed his napkin on his lap. He picked up his fork and knife and sliced off a small chunk of the meat to eat. "This is great," he complimented after swallowing, "do you cook like this often?" John blinked and looked up at Dave from his lap, blinking again before almost jumping out of his seat. "Oh! Um...yeah..I have a degree in culinary arts.." he muttered, biting his lip and looking back down at his food. Nobody ever complemented his food. "Where at?" Dave asked curiously. He made an effort not to eat too quickly and savor the meal. He took another sip of his juice.

"Sburb University. Its right downtown you can't miss it. It's actually painted green, if you can believe that." he said, grinning down at his plate before slowly taking the first bite, satisfactory of his cooking. "Oh yeah, I've seen it." Dave said. He'd noticed the building on the way to a couple of shoots. Although, he did wonder about its architecture, what with it being oddly house-shaped.

John nodded and continued eating, happy the two were able to talk as friends. "So um...do you do anything other than photography?" He asked, setting his fork down and leaning in to listen better. "Yeah actually," he said, not quite sure if he wanted to talk about it, but he did anyway, "I do a bit of music. Electronic and rap remixes as a DJ mostly." Dave shrugged. "I'm a hit at parties."

"No way." John grinned, looking up and laughing. "Are you the DJ that plays at 'Doc Scratch'?" he asked, now on the edge of his seat as he waited for an answer. "Oh my gosh I go there all the time. It's a wonder how I've never talked to you before! I've been going there since last summer, and I usually love the music they play. That's so cool." he breathed out, his smile threatening to split across his face as he dared to stay calm. "Really? Wow, I never would've guessed," Dave said. He bit at the inside of his mouth nervously, hoping John never stayed too late into the night. While he wasn't a delinquent, Dave wasn't the most well behaved person at times. He remembered his brother telling him that he'd once had to quote "carry his passed out ass home".

"Yeah, but late at night things start to get crazy. I don't know if you stay late, but usually a few fights break out and I have to leave before I see anything worse. Makes me queasy." He shivered, his appetite now fulfilled. He ate one more bite before pushing his plate aside, calmly waiting for a response. Dave scratched his head uneasily "Yeah, I've seen those a lot," he said after some consideration. He wasn't lying, he'd seen plenty of fights happen while he was working. He just causally forgot to mention that he was involved in some of them. "Real nasty. Never see the guys' faces though. Too many people trying to pry them apart. Either way its still one of my favorite clubs to go to." He finished with a smile, folding his hands together. Dave nodded, taking in one last mouthful of food to escape from having to say anything else. He chewed thoughtfully, looking back at John.

John pursed his lips, looking down at his plate before starting to tap his fingers on the table, the awkwardness engulfing the atmosphere. Fuck. Uhhhhhh...He grabbed his plate and stood up slowly, walking to the sink and setting the dish inside, and began to tidy the kitchen instead. Dave watched as John left the room. Crap. Did John know? Did he somehow upset him? He scooted his chair out slightly and rose from the table. He took his plate and followed John into the kitchen. "Need any help?" he offered. "What? Oh, no I'm fine. I just need to load these into the dishwasher." He offered Dave a smile and took his plate, rinsing it off and setting it inside the dishwasher before closing the lid with his hip, turning to dry his hands on the towel. Dave nodded and glanced off to the side. He pressed his fingers against the heel of his opposite hands, cracking his knuckles rapidly out of nervousness. He repeated the process with his other hand. "Say, uh," he started anxiously, "do you have a bathroom I could use?" John blinked and turned back around, nodding. "Yeah, sorry. My mind is just...everywhere. It's down the hall to the left. " He pointed, secretly hoping he found the bathroom and not his computer and photography room.

"Thanks," Dave said and walked over to the hallway. There were three doors on either side of the hall. Which door on the left? He hadn't really been paying attention when John was telling him. He opened the first door. Towel closet. He shut the door quickly and went on to the next door. Not a bathroom. He almost shut the door, but the contents of the room caught his eye. It seemed to be some sort of photography room. A setup of computers perched on a desk across the room. Various cameras and dozens of pictures were strewn across a few tables. He walked closer for a better look, his curiosity piqued. The photography room wasn't that large, but it was filled with clutter. Old sheets, crates, and papers cluttered the desks, and the computer screen blinked awake at the movement of the door opening, as programmed to. A file popped open with the words 'COUNTY COURTHOUSE' printed across the top of the document- his court documents for attempted murder.

**Hey, welcome back. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and stay tuned to find out what happens next! Please leave a review for me and follow to keep updated!**


	3. Dave's Plunge

**Sorry about that ending on the last chapter. Actually, no, I'm not sorry at all XD. I do have Kankri here though, he needs to tell y'all about triggers. KAN: Ah, yes, quite! KAN: 6ef9re y9u 6egin reading this, y9u must kn9w a69ut the p9tentially triggering am9unt 9f vi9lence that 9ccurs. KAN: And als9 *slaps hand over his mouth* Okay! That's enough of that! Enjoy! (PS I am so sorry if I messed up his typing quirk)**

Chapter 3...Dave's Plunge Tw violence

Dave's eyes scanned the screen, reading over the documents. No. He couldn't be in here any longer. He walked out quickly and shut the door quietly. He walked into the final room, the actual bathroom. He shut and locked the door behind him. He stumbled over to the sink and turned on the coldest water possible, splashing his face and running his fingers through his hair. Attempted Murder. The phrase flashed viciously before his eyes, the words seared into his brain. His heart beat sunk into his stomach. He thought back to John. Smiling John. Awkward, adorable, little John. Could such a seemingly innocent man really be an almost killer?

John finished in the kitchen and moved to the livingroom. What in the everloving fuck would he do now? Gasp. Movies! He smiled to himself and walked over to the tv, picking up Con Air and sticking it in, turning it on to the title screen. He sat back down and huffed, waiting for Dave to return before starting. That would be rude. Dave finally staggered out of the bathroom, his face sickly pale and his eyes wide and wild behind his shades. He walked slowly into the living room.

The brunette heard him and turned, a smile on his face. His smile dropped when he saw how sick he looked, and he stood up and bounded over to him. "Hey are you okay Dave?" he asked, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Dave tried not to flinch at his voice. When John touched him, his instincts screamed for him to pin John on the ground and demand to know everything. But his body was frozen and he was unable to speak. He simply stared at John in mild horror. John's face was filled with worry as he moved closer. "Dude what's the matter? What...what's wrong?" he asked. What in the hell happened?

John's move toward him, it was too close.

Dave reacted in the blink of an eye, years of fighting experience kicking into gear. Dave grabbed John's hand that was on his shoulder and twisted it painfully behind John's back, forcing his pinkie between his shoulder blades. He kicked the back of John's knee harshly, causing his legs to crumple from under him, and he landed face first. John let out a yelp as he went down, landing with a harsh thud and grunting before breathing in sharply, trying to arch his back since he was in pain. Dave kept his tight grip on John's arm and dug his knee into the back of his neck. "DAVE WHAT THE HELL." John let out through clenched teeth. What the fuck just happened? His nose was throbbing, and he was pretty sure his glasses were shattered. Dave was breathing hard, his heart pounding and adrenaline racing through every vein. His entire body trembled slightly. "NO. _YOU_ WHAT THE HELL, JOHN!" he yelled, a defensive snarl warping his features. "WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?" he yelled back, feeling liquid trickle out his nose. Shit. He was close to crying, half because of the pain and half because of how defenseless he was at the moment. "I SAW THE DOCUMENTS, THE CHARGES AGAINST YOU!" Dave admitted.

There was no turning back now. He might as well get some answers before he either moved to Sweden in shame, or, on the off chance that John was a psycho, died. John stayed silent a minute before shaking his head. "Those were from 7 years ago. I was framed in a case against a wealthy leader and immediately the judge locked me up for a year before realizing it wasn't me who did it." He said in a monotone voice, cringing in pain as he felt the glass from his glasses cut into his neck and shoulders, as well as his chin. Dave was shocked. Of course he had an explanation. "Oh God." he mumbled, utterly horrified at what he'd done. He stood up, releasing John and muttering the same two words over and over. And with one final look at John's battered state, Dave flew out of the front door taking the emergency stairs all the way down.

John groaned and dropped his head again, shaking his head over and over again. God damn it. After a few minutes he slowly stood up, making his way to the bathroom and slowly but surely cleaning up, picking out the shards of glass in his body and tending to the wounds. He got out his extra pair of glasses and made a mental note to buy a new pair, his brain wracked with thoughts. He made his way to his bedroom and rolled onto his bed, falling into a restless sleep soon after.

Dave stomped out to his car, nearly blind with rage and self loathing. Letting out a guttural yell, he slammed his fist into the driver side window and a spider web of cracks appeared in the glass. He got into his car and sped away.

He drove endlessly for hours, he screamed and yelled himself hoarse in multiple fits of anger, wrath and sorrow. On multiple occasions he struck the window, until it finally shattered. At some point he had made his way back to John's building. He sat in in his car in the parking lot, drunk. His whole body ached, as he had gone out and picked fights at bars in moments of what could comparatively be called clarity. And that is when he finally passed out.

John woke up with a drawn out groan, sitting up and hissing softly at the pain in his back and face. He practically tumbled out of bed and got up, rubbing his face gingerly before grabbing his keys off the table and heading out into the car lot. Wait...was that glass shattered before..? Double wait...was that Dave? John blinked awake and rushed over to the car, holding back a scream as he saw his bruised and battered body. "Oh God Dave!" He shouted, unlocking the door manually and gingerly pulling him out of the car, setting him down on the ground and looking over him. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck Dave.." He groaned, leaning down and pressing his ear to the other's chest. Faint heartbeat. Shit. He pulled out his phone and dialed 911, explaining the situation before hanging up and shaking Dave's shoulder. "Please wake up-" He begged.

Dave was completely out. For once he felt nothing but the empty blackness. He sunk deeper and deeper into the dark. Sirens sounded in the distance as John bit his lip, shaking him more. "Oh God oh God oh God this is all my fault." He whimpered, hearing the ambulance pull up. Not even a minute later a team of maybe 4 medics and first aid responders had picked Dave up and placed him on a stretcher, putting him into the back and about to take off. He approached one of them and nodded inside, and they nodded, John climbing in afterward as they took off towards the hospital.


	4. A Wake Up Call

**I am so sorry I didn't update last week! I've been busy with a lot of things, school, ****telling one of my best friends I was in love with them**** and other stuff. Anyway, I might update again this week if I'm feeling generous. I guess kind of trigger warning in this, but I don't really know.**

Chapter 4 ... A Wake Up Call

Dave's darkness was breached by a light. The light was soft at first, but quickly gained intensity. As it reached its peak, Dave was suddenly aware of a soft beeping near his right ear. He realized he was awake, and his entire body was racked with pain. He couldn't move and could scarcely breathe. Where was he? What happened? How long had he been out? His memories were hazy and it hurt to think. It hurt to do anything, he couldn't even open his eyes.

John caught sight of movement from Dave, and widened his eyes. "Dave..?" He breathed quietly, moving closer. He hoped this wouldn't end like last time: Dave seizing and the doctors rushing into the room and pushing him out. He bit his lip and moved closer, his breathing shallow and soft. Dave heard his name and tried to place the voice. Who was that? It wasn't his brother than who- John. With an agonizing shot of pain, a few memories had fallen back into place. He had been at John's. Recollecting that one bit of memory had been painful, it felt like someone had shoved a hundred knives into his head. He whimpered.

John panicked at his sound of discomfort. Fuck fuck fuck ahhhHHHHh what should he do?! Call the doctors?! Um?! He leaned closer and hitched his breath in his throat. "Dave...I don't know if you can hear me but it's John...um..I'm uh..sorry for causing you to be in the hospital...I just.." His voice cracked and he went silent, his eyes burning.

John's words washed over Dave. He did this to him? No, that wasn't right. Slowly, painfully, he received more fragments. The dinner, the date, the documents. It was still fuzzy in between, but the latest he could remember was the second beat down he received from a stranger. John waited for a response and once he recieved none, drew back from his bedside with a choked whimper. He wasn't awake yet. God, why did he do this to Dave? He wasn't even sure what he did, but he felt like it was his fault. He sighed and rubbed his temples, holding back a sob by biting his lip harshly. "I'm sorry Dave." "No, John. Don't cry, this is my fault," he thought, wishing that he had the strength to say it.

No.

No.

No!

NO!

With extreme effort, Dave groaned the word softly, almost blacking out again. John widened his eyes and went back over to Dave's bed, unsure of what to do. "P-please don't talk. As much as I'd like you to, I don't want you to seize again." He explained quickly, gingerly holding his hand against Dave's arm to let him know he was right there. "Would it be better if I talked instead?"

He'd been having seizures? What the hell did you do to yourself, Dave? And why? He still hadn't remembered that part yet. Dave felt a warmth, what must've been John's hand, on his arm. He wanted to hear John talk more, it helped him remember and helped with the pain, but didn't know how to tell him. He whimpered again, praying he got the message. "Okay I'll take that as a yes.." John mumbled, moving closer. "Well basically, you've been in a self-induced coma for the past week and a half, and have been brought back to life..uh..twice now..the doctors said that you almost clocked out the first night. I was a crying mess. I've been staying in this room as much as possible, talking to you. You never responded until now, though. They said you had a small comcussion that almost knocked your brain out of whack. A potato. You would've never recovered. I just..I'm sorry I didn't find you until the morning. That was selfish of me.." he trailed off, looking down at where his hand was now. It had trailed down to Dave's wrist. He exhaled shakily and inched his fingers in between the blonde's, squeezing his eyes shut.

John's words hit him like a ton of bricks. Dave has gone out and almost gotten himself killed, and John felt responsible? And he had stayed with him the entire time? He felt John's hand now in his. Dave wanted to squeeze his hand. He wanted to rip these wires out of his arms and hold John. Tell him that none of this was his fault. It was his. The crushing reality settling in as the last pieces fell into place. What he'd done to John, he felt so horrible. He deserved every bit of pain he had, and none of the compassion he was receiving. He should've died, alone in his car, but he was still here. Dave's eyes burned behind his eyelids.

"And um...I kind of lost my modeling job. I tried to explain to them what happened but they wouldn't hear it and gave me one day to return. I didn't go back because the night before was your first seize and I didn't want to leave you. Your..your brother stopped by, and was just.. standing there. By the door. I could tell he was worried though, just by his movements. He just left a few minutes ago to go get some rest, considering its 3:21 am on a Sunday. Heh." He stopped talking to clear his throat and looked over Dave's features, studying them once more. He made John lose his job and now he'd dragged Bro into the mess? Dave felt weak and pathetic. Every bit of this whole mess was his fault. If he could move, he'd go back out and get the job done right.

But would that be right? To leave John and Bro alone like that, and be a coward? No, that'd be selfish. Damn it, he wished he could do something right for once. "I'm sorry John. I'm sorry I put you through this," he thought. Dave felt tears well up behind his closed eyes.

John sighed and swallowed a lump in his throat. "I...I shouldn't be saying this but...I really miss you. Even though we've only talked twice...and..and...just..the kiss we shared...I felt something click. I didn't want to admit it so that's why I ran. I was really happy you gave me a second chance, though. Now I may never be able to see your smile or hear your voice again..."

Dave didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve John's kindness or his feelings. He deserved his hatred, his anger. Dave felt awful, because despite the things he'd done, John still cared for him. Dave cared for him too, every second since that kiss. Even during the few moments of clouded judgement and fear. And when he had risen from the carnage, he broke. That's why he did this to himself.

He was broken inside, overwhelmed by guilt and the thought that he'd lost John because of idiocy. He had to let John know. He had to. With a final heave of effort, Dave opened his eyes, the tears that had collected spilling onto his face. He flicked his gaze over to John.

John's gaze was still focused on Dave's hand, his on top of it. He turned his head slightly and caught sight of a glint and turned fully, eyes widening as he moved closer to Dave. "Oh my god you're crying im so- wait...oh my god Dave you're awake.." Disbelief flashed in his eyes for a moment before a small smile formed on his lips and he almost squeaked out. "Finally." Dave's mouth opened slightly to speak, but too many were needed to be said. With all of his agony, he knew he only had it in him for maybe a word or two. He needed to choose carefully. "S-sorry." He said weakly. He wanted elaborate, say he was apologizing for John's unneeded pain and worry. "My f-fault." He managed. He hoped he'd said enough, he saw the edges of his vision blacken. He needed more sleep, so he could talk to John properly.

John listened to his words and played them over and over again before nodding slowly. "You need rest. Please sleep more. For me." He said a moment later, daring to inch his hand up and place it on Dave's cheek, wiping away the tears. "I'll be here, don't worry." He didn't want to sleep, but he knew it was bound to happen. He kept his eyes open a bit longer, wanting John to be the last thing he saw before he slept again. "Stay." he choked out pleadingly. "I will, I will. I'll be right here. I won't leave." He promised, nodding and rubbing his cheek again, giving him a small smile. He wouldn't leave now, even if the nurses told him to leave. He would sneak back in. Dave closed his eyes and let himself drift off immediately. He slept soundly, knowing John would be there when he woke up.


End file.
